Amiga ISO Collection/AmigaDemoCD2.iso/ASCII/TEXTE/SEX/ADULTSHARE/J/J1460674.1

Text File | 1994-03-26 | 30.7 KB | 535 lines

   The Universe in general did not want this Journal Entry written.
Firstly, this story is in it's fourth re-write.  The previous three
false starts I deleted and started from scratch.  So what happens?
Tuesday, as I was writing, I got up to retrieve my NYT StyleGuide to
look up the use of the word 'wake.'  In the process of doing so, I
tripped over the cord to my portable CD player, pulling the
transformer from the wall, which then fell three feet and hit the power
bar, sending the entire story into oblivion.
   The next day, as I was downloading something from the 'net, a
something which would take about an hour or so, I pulled up the
word processor and started writing, failing to notice that between
NComm and Scribble! I didn't have enough room in RAM to hold said file.
On the Amiga, that's known as "Summoning the Guru."  Crash!  Bye bye.
At least this time I had the common sense to save it occasionally.
>From Thursday through Saturday it's been 15 hour workdays.
   And finally, to add insult to injury, the BBS I upload these stories
to for transmission wouldn't allow me to use a transfer protocol.  I
had to do unspeakable things to the BBS's UNIX to get Z-modem to work.
   But, here it is.  I persevered, never lost the train, and went to
work, finishing it.  Enjoy.

   NOTE TO ALT.FAN.FURRY readers.  This material, although it certainly
doesn't look like it at first, is erotica.  If you have an objection
to such material, DON'T READ IT!  Exercise your first amendment rights
as I do mine!

_______________________________________________________________________


@BEGIN_FILE_ID.DIZ
Journal Entry 146 / 0674@END_FILE_ID.DIZ


     High on a hill, with a single tree leaping out of it, I am still
painfully aware of just how overwhelming the ring of Pendor is as it
rises and wraps itself around the sun.  An enormous symbol of beauty and
power, I like to feel small and insignificant here on Abornia plain.  I
deserve it.  Far to the north stands the steel glint of the Arc rising
from the lake it's situated over, and much closer, down below the hill,
lies the tomb of Donna Lewis Shardik.
     I guess that after a while the pain should fade, but it doesn't and
I hope it never does.  I'll never forget the blond hair of her father or
the hazel eyes of her mother.  I'll never forget her soft voice and her
innocent smile.
     I wiped the tear that had formed in my eye and sighed, leaning back
against the tree and taking a slow bite from my sandwich.  I was here
for more fun things than reminding myself of my lost children, because
playing down at the bottom of the hill were my latest.  Karen and Yorik
rolled in the grass, fighting like cubs will.  Molly sat to my left,
watching them with an amused expression.  "They're silly," she said.
     "Think so?" I asked with my mouth full.
     "I wouldn't play in the grass like that."
     "Why not?" I asked, adding, "I would."
     That got a startled look from Molly, who said, "You would?  Why?"
     "Why not?  I mean, it's fun."
     "It's childish."
     "Look who's talking," I said, amused at her "I'm mature" attitude.
"You're only two years old yourself."
     "I am a adult Pamthreat and I should live up to that."
     "Then you've a lot to learn."  I saw that we were about to be
joined by Adriano, who was charging across the countryside at nearly
sixty klick, his four powerful rear legs kicking up huge gouts of grass
and soil as he ran.  He hadn't learned to stop nearly as well, and
tumbled to a halt as he attempted to carry the charge up the hill.  I
laughed; Molly gave him her disdainful look.  He picked himself up,
shook the grass of his broad back and head and with a sheepish grin
walked the rest of the way up the hill towards us.
     "You okay?" I asked as he approached.  I offered a hand to brush
some of the grass off of his head, and he let me, still grinning with
painful embarrassment.
     "I'll be okay," he said.  I laughed, and finally, he laughed along.
I crooked a finger at him and he came closer.  I gave him a hug.
     The feeling of insignificance came back to me as I realized that I
was sitting next to what appeared to be four of the most dangerous
predators on Pendor.  Normal Pamthreats sometimes weigh in at 200
Kilograms and average 2.4 meters in length, so they're not as large as
tigers (still the largest of the big cats) but they're more powerful.
Instead of one pelvis, they have two, one in front of the other, and
therefore four rear legs that deliver incredible amounts of running
power.  They come in two colors- summer black and winter white, and in
either guise they're beautiful and they're deadly.  But what's worse
about Pamthreats is that the prides form psionic gestalts; what one
member knows, they all know.  Combat with a Pamthreat Pride is just
plain stupid outside of Powered Armor, and when one learns the taste of
sentient flesh, the entire pride has to be wiped out.
     When Karen and Yorik first came out of their tanks, I felt more
than a little guilty about their creation.  You see, although officially
Karen and Yorik are "Sentient Pamthreat Tleils Numbers One And Two" they
aren't the first.  Karri had been a sentient pamthreat with two bodies;
I'd made the mistake of using the same genetic sample for both of them,
and they'd formed a gestalt.  When one of those bodies was killed during
my absence with the crew of the erstwhile S.S. Minnow, Karri took the
other body to suicide.
     And it hurt, too.  Knowing that I'd made mistakes with her that
were just plain stupid.  Selfish.  And I'd promised her that when I got
back to Pendor I would make a Tleil run of Pamthreats.  Only now, Karri
wasn't here to see it.
     Anyway, Karen and Yorik ceased their tumbling and joined us at the
top of the hill.  "Hiya," I said.
     Karen giggled gleefully, the sounds forming from deep inside her
throat.  "Have fun?" I asked.
     "Tired," Yorik offered.  "And dirty," he said.  "I'm gonna go
wash."  He bounded around to the other side of the tree and vanished in
a flash.
     "I think I'll join him," Adriano said.  Molly rose, yawned, and
said, "I'll go too."  The two of them disappeared into the SDisk.  I
turned to Karen and said, "What about you?"
     "I want to relax in the shade first.  And I want to talk to you."
     I resisted the urge to pet her.  After all these years, I still
want to pet her, treat her like an animal.  She's as sentient as I am,
or P'nyssa, or M'Ress.  But she countered, saying, "Please.  I like when
you touch me."
     I smiled and reached out to stroke her the length of her body.  She
purred, a deep and satisfied sound.  "Ken?"
     "Yeah?"
     "You know I can't help it when I read you like that.  I'm trying to
damp it down, and I'm taking lessons.  But sometimes I just pick up on
things."
     "I know.  It's okay."
     "I know you still feel sad sometimes when you're with us.  And I
know that you've been spending more time with us than you did with the
Mustela, watching us and talking to us.  To me.  Can you tell me
something?"
     "Karen, if you ask me the question, you'll know the answer."
     "No.  I promise."
     "Okay."
     "Did you make me with Karri Walton's genes?"
     I thought for a few seconds.  "Yes."
     Karen's head, for that matter all Pamthreat's heads, are closest to
the leopard's in design, if not in coloration or size, and she gave the
Pamthreat's equivalent of a smile.  "You don't feel guilty about that?"
     "Not about that.  I little... melancholy, maybe."
     She nodded.  "Ken, if I tell you something important, will you
promise to not 'fly off the handle?'"
     I laughed.  "Where did you learn that expression?"
     "From the person who asked me to tell you this secret."
     "I promise I'll try."
     "That's fair.  Carroll is pregnant again."
     "What!?" I said, nearly shouting.  "That's great!  Why would that
be a secret?"
     "Because she didn't do the same thing you did."
     It took nearly a full minute for that to sink in.  "Why would that
make a difference?"
     "Ken... You do not know how much I want to say 'Father'
sometimes... Carroll hasn't had another child in so long because she's
afraid of what happened the last time.  I'm only two years old, but I
think I know what incorporation shock means, now."
     I nodded.  "You're right.  It does make a difference.  I restored
something I had lost."  I sat for a few seconds and then said, "Did
Carroll ask you to tell me?"
     She nodded.
     Time passed as we sat, my hand idly stroking her back.  She crawled
forward in the grass and lay her head in my lap.  I smiled and kept
petting her, feeling her body thrum with that outrageous purring.
     "Ken" she asked, "is it too much to ask you to scratch my belly?"
     "Of course not," I said, and she turned over, all six paws splayed
into the air.  I rubbed her belly gently with my fingers, stroking up to
her throat and then back down between her nipples and down between her
legs.  "Feel good?"
     "Go a little further down," she said.  I my strokes ran the length
of her body, and stopped just short of her vulva.  "Further," she
growled.
     "If I stroke further, I'll be-"
     "I know," she whispered, opening her eyes and looking at me.
     "Karen... Not now, okay?"
     She lay her head back against my leg and closed her eyes.  "Okay,"
she whispered.  "But don't stop scratching.  Still feels good anyway."

     There is no better place to get a tan than the beach, especially a
beach on Pendor, where the sun is always at peak, where the water is
warm, and where there's a shower mere meters away.  I lay on a towel
with a copy of The Dominion of Katorri, a rather trashy translation of a
rather trashy novel from one of the less friendly Terran colonies.
Despite this, it was fun summertime reading, full of strong women making
poor choices, which is the typical theme of the trashy novel no matter
what planet you're from.
     The sound of waves, wind, and seagulls combined to hide from me
Karen's approach, so the first I knew of her presence was a "Hi, Ken."
     I turned and looked back the length of the towel to see her staring
at me with a quizzical expression on her face, a small smile playing on
her thin, pink lips.  "Hi," I said, returning the greeting cheerfully.
     "I came to talk."
     "You know, Karen, of all the Pamthreats, you are the most
inquisitive and sometimes the questions you ask are embarrassing as
Hell.  What now?"
     She settled onto the sound and said, calmly, "Why won't you make
love with me?"
     "Why won't I... what?"
     "'I think you heard me,' to use your own expression, Ken.  I'm
annoyed at you.  Three times I have made serious passes at you, and
while the first two were a little indirect, yesterday you out-and-out
refused me, and I'm just a little annoyed."
     "Karen, you can't just walk up to me and say, 'I'd like to jump
into bed with you,' and expect me to respond.  It's not as if I want
fuck every woman I meet."
     Her stare was frightening in it's intensity.  "Ken, that is not
your problem right now and you know it.  If I were anything else, you
would sleep with me, and you know it.  There's something about
Pamthreats, and there's something about me, that you're... I don't know.
But I can feel it.  Sometimes I think you're afraid of me, sometimes
you're too guilty about me, I can't tell.  But it's starting to really
get on my nerves."
     I sat up on the towel and brushed some sand off with the loose
pages of the paperback.  Finally, I nodded, sighing.  "Karen, in all the
centuries I have been doing this, I have never once excluded someone
from my bed simply as a matter of species.  Human, Mephit, Felinzi,
whatever.  It's never mattered to me."
     "Until now."
     I nodded.  "Until now.  Karen, I have tried; Odin knows, I have
tried to find something in you to excite me, to arouse me.  But if I'm
to be honest to you, I can't.  I don't."  I rubbed my forehead with my
open hand.  "I want to.  I do."
     She nodded.  "Do you still feel a little guilty about us?"
     I shook my head.  "It's not that.  I reconciled that a long time
ago; you're no worse off than the dolphins.  Both species need
cybernetics to do what I consider basic things, but you're both species
that wouldn't exist without tech anyway, so I don't let it bother me.
You're Pendorians, and that's all.  I need biocybe to do somethings I
consider necessary."
     "I told my problem to a friend.  He suggested I close my eyes and
concentrate on the voice, and try to find something there.  But Karen,
the fact that we're speaking Felin right now is part of the problem.
It's the only language you can really speak- it and Uncziati.  Quen just
doesn't come to you without hardware, and I know you've mostly avoided
biomods.  So I'm stuck with this reminder that you... you look like, you
are, a Pamthreat."
     "Are you afraid?"
     "If I was afraid, would I have stroked your belly yesterday?  No,
it's not that.  It's just that I'm not turned on by your kind."
     "Can I say something that you're going to take very personally,
Ken?  And I think you should?  You're a bastard.  Of all the Pendorian
races, we're the only ones you didn't make because you wanted to.  You
made us because you thought you had to.  You had to hold up a promise,
and in holding up that promise you didn't make what was wrong... you
didn't make it right.  And before you make one more move, you should ask
yourself why you made Karri.  Because until you know that, you're not
fit to be Vatare'."  She rose slowly.  "I'll be going."  And with that
she walked off slowly.

     The piano in the far corner of the bar tinkled slowly, the player
taking his time on a rather long and depressing piece I recognized as
something by Sakamoto.  It fit my mood perfectly as I sat in the
selfsame booth P'nyssa had sat in all those years ago in when I had had
to go in and drag her out.  I wasn't in a suicidal mood; I was far too
angry for that.  It was time to get drunk, to get stinking, falling
down, ralfing drunk.  To overwhelm the nanotech scavengers and saturate
my cerebellum with enough ethanol to stun a good-sized Centaur.  I was
well on my way when a finger tapped me on the shoulder.  "Hey, you," the
finger said.
     I followed the finger up the hand, arm and shoulder to look into
the eyes of Carroll Lewis.  "Hiya," I said, the world taking on a
distinct counter-clockwise spin as I tried to focus on her.
     "Can I take a seat?"
     "Ish a free universh."  The slur was far more pronounced than it
should have been.  My diction is perfect until the point of
unconsciousness.  But people expect drunks to slur their word to the
point where speech is one long vowel movement.
      She settled to the floor next to the booth, her Centaur bulk
providing a wonderful barrier to keep me in.  "What's up?" she asked in
that playful voice she reserves for occasions like this.
     "I'm gettin' drunk!  Whas i'look like?"
     "It looks like you're getting drunk."  Her smile was dazzling.
"So, you want to tell me why?"
     "Because I wanna, thash why."
     "It won't help you," she said.
     "Wash tha mean?"
     "Karen will still be here tomorrow."
     "Fuck you," I said, slowly and with clarity.
     "It's why you're getting drunk, isn't it?  You spoke to her today,
on the beach.  I saw you two from the Castle balcony.  So, do you want
to tell Carroll what you were talking about?"
     "Makin love."
     Carroll's face took on a look of mock confusion.  "But that
shouldn't be a problem.  You're good at that."
     "But I don't wanna."
     "Don't wanna what, Ken?  Make love?"
     "Not with her.  I mean, I do, but I can't."  The piano picked up
it's tempo significantly.  "I mean, I want to, but I... I don't get
excited by her, or any of the Pamthreats.  It's so... I'm so fucked up,
Carroll.  I've made so many mistakes."
     "Quite a few.  I remember Cammi, all those years ago..."
     "Don' remind me," I said, her image bobbing back and forth.
     "'If I get one more word from you, it's back to the tanks for the
lot of you!'"
     "I asked y' not t' remind me!" I said, raising my voice.
     "But they're still here, aren't they?  The Unczia are still here.
It's the past, Ken, and it was a mistake that's been corrected.  Cammi
is still himself, and you're still yourself."
     "But that... Carroll, what if I'd been serious?  I mean, that goes
against everything I said I believed in."  The adrenaline was starting
to kick in.  I took another slug of scotch.  "Am I that hypocritical?
Am I that callous and stupid?"
     She smiled gently and said, "I don't think it makes a difference
anymore.  Pendorians are having babies and going on with their lives,
and where they came from doesn't matter anymore.  I mean, I know I'm
never going to be a great skier, but then I haven't got the legs for it,
and maybe you shaped that, but what I do with myself now is my
business."
     I smiled for a moment at the image of a Centaur on waterskis, and
the smile carried weakly as I said, "I heard you're going to have a
colt."
     She smiled back and said, "Yeah.  Ten months, Dr. Adnil says.  A
girl."
     "Really?" I asked.  "And why can't you just call him 'Rhys' like
everybody else?  He's almost family."
     "Because... I don't know.  I'm just used to calling him 'Dr.
Adnil.'"  She paused for a second and said, "Why did you make Karri?"
     "Because I wanted to, I really did.  All that power, all that
strength, and I wanted to talk to it, to her... to touch her."  The
words just fell from my lips, and I was shocked as my muddled brain
played them back for me.  The shock must have been pretty clear on my
face because Carroll's smile just got a little wider.  "Carroll..."
     She shook her head and said, "You made every Pendorian species for
the same reason.  Because you wanted to touch them, and you can't do
that without their permission, and you can't get their permission unless
they can talk to you.  Now, selfish or not, you're smart enough to know
that you're not going to get permission unless they've a reason for
liking you and trusting you and loving you.  And if everything around us
is an expression of that kind of ethic, then I'm glad you're my father,
Ken."
     "The only difference here is that, while you made the Pamthreats
originally for all the right reasons, you made the present Tleil
Pamthreats out of guilt- Guilt at not fulfilling your demiurge the way
you should have, they way you always did.  I mean, you even made the
Dragons because you wanted to be in the same world as they, and you made
a hundred."
     I stopped her with a hand and said, "So what do I do now?  I
feel...  I need to go find Karen, I need to..."
     "You need to sit down and sober up," Carroll said.  "You need to go
home to P'nyssa, who's well suited to caring for you.  She's seen this
problem before."  Her smile was beautiful.  I leaned over and awkwardly
wrapped my arms around her shoulders, tears forming in my eyes.
     "Carroll... Thank you.  Again.  And again."  I leaned into her, and
kissed her lips. In my drunken state I forgot about how I thought I was
supposed to feel around Carroll, and opened my lips gently.  Her
response was the same, as our tongues met and touched softly, sliding
over each other.  It all suddenly came back to me in a flash, and I
reeled away from her.  "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do that."
     There was a sad expression on her face, and she said, "Ken, you've
never kissed me like that before.  What's there to be sorry about?"
     "Nothing," I growled.  She let it drop; I doubted much I could
handle a second confession that night.  "No, wait."
     "Carroll, I'm going to tell you something important.  Something
that's sort of strange, and sort of sick."  She waited.  "A long time
ago, before I made Pendor, before I had Fawn, even, I was just a plain
human being, wandering through human life.  I had a crush on a girl
about my age, her name was Lisa.  I can't tell you much about her,
except that I was sixteen and so was she, and was as infatuated and what
have you as a sixteen-year-old can get.
     "And we started to get along.  I can't tell you what that was like,
suddenly discovering girls, suddenly having a friend, suddenly having a
girlfriend.  It's like nothing Pendorians, or Tleils especially, ever go
through.
     "She was in an auto with a friend of mine, and they'd gone to a
store just to get something to eat.  They were coming back and Mark,
that was his name, decided to take the auto up as fast as it could go,
and nobody was ever able to tell me what happened then, but the right
side of the car lurched down and struck the road, and the car rolled and
flipped over.  Neither one was wearing any restraint, and they both went
flying from it as it spun down the road.  Lisa landed near me.
     "And all I remember is holding her, begging her not to die, and she
did anyway, and I remember having to listen to it."
     Carroll was totally silent as I told her this story.  "And you,
Carroll, are her from the waist up.  Same long black hair, same hazel
eyes, same perfect teeth."
     Her response was anger.  "And you went through the same thing when
Donna died, and you didn't tell me?" she said, her voice raising.
     "You had problems of your own."
     "And that makes it better?" she shouted, surprising me.  I've never
seen Carroll get angry.
     "It doesn't make a difference now anyway," I said.
     "It certainly does!"
     "Carroll, she was just some girl."
     "You cared enough about her that fifty years later you made me in
her image!"
     "And why the Hell did I do that?  What kind of Freudian screwball
idea leads me to take that image and put it on a Centaur?"
     "Because you can't fuck one," she said sarcastically.
     "Yeah.  Because I can't fuck one.  Okay?  There, you happy?  We've
psychoanalyzed me enough to know that I made you because I wanted to
turn some childhood crush into a virginal madonna image.  Because I will
never be able to treat you as just another friend, just another Tleil,
just another child.  Because you were my first Centaur, my first
sentient at all.  Because your first child died in my arms.  Because I
though Lisa Ann Lewis pretty enough to be given a second chance."  I
paused for a second, then snarled, "There.  Are you finally satisfied,
Carroll Lewis Shardik?  Are you happy with the answers you've gotten?"
I rose from the bench and took a step for the door.
     She grabbed my arm and said, "I was satisfied when I came in here."
Her smiled had become a little saddened.  "But now I know why you've
always treated me differently."
     I nodded in shame and said, "Carroll, you're so different up here,"
I said, pointing to my temple, "from what I expected you to be.  All the
Centaurs were- Hell, all the Tleils were, really, but you, you were the
worst.  Argumentative, inquisitive.  I never got a fair shot with you
people; I really thought that the way you were going you were all going
to hate me.  And if you had, I'd've deserved it.  But you, you were on
my case all the time.  'What's this', and 'What's that,' and 'Tell me
why.'"
     "Ken... "  She settled to the floor so that we were again eye-to-
eye.  "I love you."
     "I know," I said, the tears forming in my eyes again.  "I know,"
and I threw my arms around her shoulders and cried helplessly.  "Oh,
Gods, I know."
     She held me close as I stood there, crying against her shoulder,
and she stroked my long hair.  I smiled when I felt that.  "You know," I
said, "I can never stop.  I'll never be able to stop.  There will always
be one more touch I want, and I'll begin writing it down, and you know
it will end up in the lab.  There's nothing I can do.  And it's just
going to keep on fucking up your lives, Carroll, yours and everybody
elses."
     She smiled and said, "But that's what you're here for, Ken.  To
make our lives more interesting.  It's not a curse, It's a blessing."
     "I only wish I felt like it sometimes."
     I hugged her close to me and she responded, holding my tightly.
Then she said, "Well, what do you think?"
     I blinked, wondering who she meant.  She couldn't have been talking
to me.  Then I heard a voice behind me say, "You're right.  He can be
redeemed.  It just takes the right person."
     I turned around to find myself staring at Karen Walton's big brown
eyes.  I let go of Carroll and sank down to the floor, pulling her close
and wrapping my arms around her neck, this time concentrating on the
feelings of soft black fur against my cheek and throat and the sound of
her heartbeat.  "You set me up, didn't you?"
     She growled gently and said, "Not me.  Her."  I looked back up at
Carroll and she nodded.  I hugged Karen just a little more fiercely with
one arm, the other trailing under her torso and scratching her lightly.
"Tomorrow," she said.  "Under the trees, just like yesterday."
     I nodded against her head, burying my face into the fur of her
shoulder, feeling her against me and just feeling relieved.  Then I
finally eased back and stood, going back and hugging Carroll.  "Thank
you," I said.
     "You're welcome."
     There was a pause, the sort where I felt out of control again, and
I said.  "Wait here."  I walked to the edge of the bar, got Mikhail's
attention, and whispered something in his ear.  He nodded, went into the
back room and walked out a minute later, handing me a small recording
chip.  I carried it back and handed it to Carroll.  "Here."
     "What's this?" she asked as she took it.
     "Carroll, twice now I've made the wrong decision about restoring
things I wanted and couldn't have.  I don't ever want to make that
mistake again, and since you've taken your production into your own
hands, I want you to have that option.  Donna's genecode."
     The look was shock.  "You really want me to have this?"
     "You still have to wait at least a year to make that decision."
     "But I can... ?"
     "If you want."
     "And you won't be upset?"
     "Carroll, to be honest, I have no idea how I'll feel.  All I know
is that this is a decision you should make, and for me to withhold the
chip from you for five centuries is an error of truly Shardik-ian
proportions."  She laughed, and I laughed along.  "Come on, let's go."
I turned for the door, and just then that last massive glass of scotch
decided it was time to take another stranglehold on my brain.  "Woah!" I
said, starting to fall backwards.  Carroll caught me just in time.
     "Thanks," I said.
     "Let's get you home."  She helped me to the door, Karen following
us closely.  The three of us stepped into the SDisk at the edge of town
and Carroll said "Castle Shardik, please."
     The lights were low inside as we appeared inside the castle, and
Carroll against helped me along to my home.  "I can stand," I said.
     "Not very well," Carroll observed.
     "No, but I can stand.  Karen, would you like to come in?"
     She looked off for a moment, thinking, then said, "I think I will.
You need the company."
     I smiled as the door opened and we walked in as a trio.  The lights
were off, but they came up slowly as we entered.  "Hello, Dave!" I said.
     There was the >snap< of a silence barrier going up over the access
to the bedroom.  "Shhh...!" he said, "P'nyssa's sleeping."
     "Okay," I said, whispering.  "Sorry."  Hand over hand across the
furniture for balance, I made my way to the refrigerator and poured
myself nearly a quart of apple juice, downing about half that in one
long draught.
     "Thirsty?" Karen asked.
     "Very.  Alcohol does that."
     "Must be why I never drink," Carroll said.  "Goodnight, kids.  I'm
off to bed."
     "Goodnight," I said in return.  She waved as she left through the
door and it shut behind her.  I walked into the living room and sat on
the floor.  Despite all the furniture I have or could have, I prefer
sitting on floors.  Don't ask me why, because I don't understand it
either.  Karen walked over to me and said, "Are you okay?"
     "I will be."
     "Do you still feel uncomfortable?"
     "Very.  But I want to be sober when we at least try.  Because I do
love you, and I do care for you.  But right now I'm very drunk and very
tired, and I'd just like to get some sleep.  Would you like to join me?"
     "Would P'nyssa object?"
     "I doubt it; she likes company."
     "Even in bed?  I mean, I may be only two years old, but I know
enough to figure that getting into bed with your coimelin without an
introduction is pretty rude."
     "Come on; you can keep her back from getting cold."
     She smiled and said, "Okay."  I figured it would be; the bed's big
enough to sleep a small army.

     Today's dawn was already a part of history when I came to
consciousness.  The room had been darkened, and for that I was grateful.
I crawled out of the bed with all the enthusiasm lizards reserve for the
dead of winter, stomping slowly to the bathroom to relieve myself.  I
grabbed two ibuprofen while I was at it and then fell back into bed.  I
groaned.
     From upstairs I heard two voices speaking in Felinzi and deduced
that Nyss and Karen must have awakened much earlier and were now talking
like the old friends they were becoming.  I heard a shuffling noise from
upstairs and figured they were on their way down.
     They were.  P'nyssa's feet appeared first, followed by the rest of
her.  She landed easily on the floor next to the bed.  Karen followed
head first, plummeting in slow-motion towards the bed.  I groaned as she
disturbed the bed further, making my head rock in pain.  "G'morning," I
croaked, feeling my vocal chords vibrate painfully.
     "Karen," P'nyssa said cheerfully, "What you are looking at is a
miserable example of a hangover."
     "I dunno about you," I croaked, "but I think I'm an excellent
example of a hangover."
     "That's what I mean.  You look miserable."  I groaned again.
     "What's wrong with him?"
     "His body's getting back at him for ingesting all that ethanol last
night.  Don't worry.  In an hour or so he'll be fine.  Ken?  Drink
this."
     I turned over and looked up.  She was handing me a liter-sized
glass full of murky water.  "Water and lots of vitamins?" I asked.
     She nodded.  I took the glass and proceeded to drain it as best as
I could.  My body had such a craving need for water that I nearly
succeeded in getting all of it into me.
     I sat up painfully, cursing the stiffness that was amplified by the
pain in my head.  "I feel terrible," I said.
     "You look terrible," Karen replied.  "Does alcohol always do this
to you?"
     "Always.  Depends on how much I drink, though.  Diphenhydramine is
worse, though.  Takes two days to recover from that."
     "Then why would you want to drink alcohol?" Karen asked.  "There
must be better ways of getting intoxicated."